


Bet You Didn't Know That I Was Dangerous

by ItsyBitsyBatsySpider



Category: Danny Phantom, Titans (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, Batman References, Blood and Gore, F/M, Found Family, GIW, Gen, Ghosts, Lots of fucking angst, Other, Superheroes, Violence, danny is in the dcu universe, danny is on the run, homeless!Danny, obviously, this is gonna be a lot of fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2020-12-23 20:37:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21087479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsyBitsyBatsySpider/pseuds/ItsyBitsyBatsySpider
Summary: “I told you to run.”The man shouted in fear and dropped the still smoking gun from his hands, and the raven watched as it clattered heavily onto the ground. Snow crunching harshly beneath fleeting feet as the criminal turned tail and ran away. The boy watched as he ran away from the alley, and away from the terrifying, inhuman, freak of a child who he had thought would be an easy target for him and his friends.Oh, how wrong he was.





	1. i'm looking from the outside...

**Author's Note:**

> So i wrote this to fight writers block and i think it came out better than i thought it would. And yes this is a crossover with Danny Phantom and Titans, so it's going to be pretty gritty and intense in some parts. But its gonna be awesome!! I hope you guys like it and i really had a lot of fun writing the fight scenes!  
Im not going to explain everything thats happening or the back story, because where would be the fun in that? And all will be revealed in due time. 
> 
> So until then, enjoy!!

It was a winter night in the city and anyone with common sense was walking back to their homes, away from the deathly cold and frosted ground that threatened to harm them. Well, all except for one boy who stood on the corner of a street, clutching his jacket desperately. He shivered against the cold, breathing a silver cloud into the night air and struggling to find some warmth in the thin clothes that he was wearing. Usually, the cold wouldn’t bother him in such a dramatic way, for he was one to embrace the cold and let it envelop him, it was how he learned to survive so long on his own during the winter nights of this city. But recently, the nights had become far colder than they normally were, and it left him huddling up against dumpsters or anything that would help keep the cold wind at bay. 

The boy briefly considered his alternate option, the one that he knew he could always use in case of emergencies, but he shook his head ‘No’. Ebony locks falling into his eyes and obscuring what little vision he had. He refused to consider it, and he had promised himself that he would never use it again. So he huffed, silver clouds coming from his chapped lips again, and he walked away. He would have to wait till morning for the drugstore to open up again. 

Frost and road salt crunched underneath his shoes, as he shoved his gloved hands into his pockets and tried to find some way to keep them from going numb from the merciless bite. 

The city lights glowed around him, casting the street in a hazy aura that made the snow and frost glitter on the pavement, and dark buildings with flickering silver lights surrounded the teen, reminding him of a protective fortress. Black spires that reached into the never-ending sky and walls of falling snow cutting him off from the rest of the world. 

A grey sky with patches of blue revealed what little stars were able to poke through the thick veil. The boy looked up at the sky, eyes hard and nostalgic, and he remembered a time when he was able to float among the stars at the slightest whim. When he could go up into the sky whenever he wished and how no one could tell him otherwise or bring him back down. And for a moment he wondered if he should fly again. 

He could. 

But he wouldn’t. 

He shook his head at the thought and continued walking, making his way towards his most recent ‘home’. 

Cars drove past him, the drivers almost comically slow in their fear of black ice, and the lights of the vehicles reflected across the boy’s eyes, turning the grey-blue into unnatural white. Only lasting a millisecond, a blink, and then returning to their normal color. Appearing as if nothing happened to them. But the light that flashed in his eyes reeled his mind back, drudging up a memory that he’d rather wish to forget. 

_ White.  _

_ White glared in front of his eyes, creating streaks that glowed and blinded his pale irises. Muffled voices filled his ears and stiff hands gripped him, keeping him in place without any room to move. But were they really hands though? They had felt cold and sharp against his wrists, unlike what he knew to resemble flesh and bone. The ‘hands’ dug into his skin, rubbing them raw and almost cutting into them.  _

_ He saw white. Only white. That hideous, perfect, plain, neat, boring, pure color. The one that he had come to hate. The thing that he learned to hate. And it was all he saw.  _

The boy blinked away the residue glares, and saw the blinking fairy lights on the trees lining the streets. He breathed in deeply, feeling his normally slow heart racing as he remembered  _ that.  _ The cold air cut his throat as he breathed it down in shaky breaths. The gloved hands resting in his jacket trembled lightly, and the teen fisted them to try and stop them from giving away how scared he was. Even though nobody could see them. The shop windows slowly began to turn off, signifying the late hour, but to the boy, it meant nothing. He didn’t care that it was late, much later than any person should stay up, because it didn’t matter to him. So he walked down the street, alone, with nothing but his thoughts and the inky shadows to accompany him. 

He eventually made it to the starting point of his ‘home’. The place where he would begin his climb, seeing as how his shelter was on top of a very tall, black spire. He shuffled through a dark alleyway, one that looked like monsters were born there, with a scent of petrichor and cold earth drifting through it, when he felt the hairs on his neck rise. 

He froze where he stood and felt his shoulders tense and relax at the same time. A reflex one gets when they have been running for a long time. The teen turned around, and much to his tired dismay saw a group of older teens standing at the front of the alley, wearing dark clothes and smirking maliciously. 

“Hey looks like we got lucky tonight guys!” one of them said, their voice full of mirth.

And the young teen should probably act scared or at least intimidated by the older group, but in all honesty, he couldn’t give a single fuck about them. 

They walked forwards, one of them the clear leader since he stepped with an air of smugness and authority, and the three goons behind him flanked the sides, letting their leader do the work as they made sure that their prey wouldn’t escape. 

As if he would want to escape. It was honestly insulting to the raven-haired boy that they thought he would be subdued by just the four of them. But he didn’t voice his thoughts, for he knew that it would only agitate them further. So he stayed still and watched the the leader strut forward and pull out a switchblade. It flicked open with a simple click and in a sloppy, swift movement, the leader had him pinned to the cold, brick wall. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” the raven said cooly, his voice giving away nothing and his pale eyes reflecting the irritance he felt. The older kid, almost a man, sneered and placed the edge of his blade along the boy’s throat, the cool metal sending a small shiver down his spine.

“Why?” he hissed. The raven heard the other thugs chuckling behind him. “What the fuck can you do to me, dipshit?” he scoffed a laugh. “Now give me your fucking wallet and all the money you have, asshole. Unless you want me to slit your fucking throat.” 

The teen sighed, forcefully exhaling through his nose, and pressing his lips together in a thin line. This was getting a bit bothersome and he had to get some sleep if he was going to get up early tomorrow morning for the drugstore. “I’m warning you.” he said, but his warning went unheard.

“This is your last chance, dickwad. Your money or your life.” The blade pressed deeper into the boy’s skin, causing a thin red line to appear.

“No, this is your last chance. Run.” 

The older teen laughed and the boy could feel the grip on the blade loosen, and he knew that he would have to take the knife now. He couldn’t let something with his blood on it get away. Guess there was only one way out of this, and the raven didn’t like it. But what other choice did he have? 

“Okay, I tried being nice.” the thug said as he drew back the fist with the knife, clearly going in for a weak and sloppy stab. The ‘victim’ almost laughed at the man’s form. 

Then in the blink of an eye there was a loud crunch and the switchblade knife had fallen onto the frosted ground. The man stepped back crying out, his wrist clutched closely to his chest and muttering vile curses as he angrily glared at the younger boy, who had fractured his wrist inhumanely fast. The teen growled and foolishly came forward again, his other fist reeled back and ready to hurt his ‘victim’. 

But as he punched the pale-eyed teen in the jaw, there was a soft  _ thok  _ and he screamed in pain again. For the moment his fist hit his target’s jaw, the younger teen had turned his head with the punch, so as not to completely injure his attacker when his fist came into contact. It was a small mercy given to him, but the thug didn’t see it that way. 

“What the fuck!” he cried out, shaking his hand and stumbling away from the boy standing along the brick wall. 

“I warned you.” he said, annoyed. And then quickly ducking down he snatched up the knife, sheathing the blade and pocketing it. 

“Get him you fucking idiots!” he heard the leader yell and the raven whipped around, seeing two of the other guys brandish knives and one pull out a gun. He gulped down a steadying breath and clenched his hands, he could feel his fingernails digging into his skin even though he was wearing winter gloves. Energy bubbled up beneath his skin aching to be used, his body’s way of telling him it was ready for the inevitable fight about to happen. 

And he did his best to extinguish it. To suppress the tingle in his hands and the lightness of his feet. He won’t give in to his powers now of all times, he refused to. It would mean everything he worked for all of these months, was for nothing. 

One of them stepped forward, gravel and frost crunching beneath his foot, and swiped with his blade. The knife whistling past the younger teen’s ears as he dodged it. And just like their leader, he was sloppy. His attempted slice left his side wide open, and the boy took his opportunity to strike back. It was practically handed to him on a silver platter, after all. He sidestepped and went with the motion, spinning around and landing a solid hook kick on the thug. He fell down with a crack, knife still in hand, and ended up stabbing himself in his side. 

_ Talk about falling on your own sword.  _ the younger boy thought humorlessly.

The other teen, seeing his friend injured on the ground with blood pooling around him, growled in anger before throwing himself at the raven. He tried to punch him, but the smaller boy ducked and rolled across the ground away from the goon. He hopped back up onto his feet, now standing in the middle of the alley with his body in a familiar fight stance and his eyes narrowed in focused frustration. The guy thundered towards him, knife at the ready, and much like his failed companion, tried to stab their victim. And just like his predecessors, he was equally sloppy. His knife too stiff and his grip subpar, and even in the middle of a fight, the teen could see that he didn’t know what he was doing. 

The raven took out the switchblade he had pocketed and flicked it open. Gripping the cool handle skillfully and waited for the other to make his move. Which didn’t actually take very long. He tried to stab him again, sharp blade glinting in the low city light, and while his arm was outstretched, the raven sidestepped and swiped his newly acquired knife across the older teen’s arm. Creating a gash that went right down the sensitive underside of his arm.

The injured thug cried out in pain and dropped his knife, his other hand instantly pressed against the fresh cut on his arm, and the younger boy took this as his moment to step forward and elbow him in the gut. The teen fell down but caught himself, and he briefly struggled to get back up to his knees. But their ‘victim’ didn’t give him a chance once he swiftly kicked him in the face, making him fall back down onto the cold cement. 

And this time he didn’t get back up. 

The raven heard the all too familiar sound of metal clicking, and reflexively dove to the ground, rolling away as he heard a gunshot fire. The sound rang in his ears, and he shook his head as he tried to get rid of the ringing. Piercing blue eyes scanned the alley, looking for the one who fired the gun and he came across the last man standing. 

He didn’t hesitate as he lunged for the thug, going faster than any human should’ve been able to. And the man cussed nervously before shakily aiming and firing again, bullets missing their target as he dove and weaved out of the way. Only one came close, and it grazed his shoulder as he ran toward the last criminal.

He didn’t even flinch as the bullet bit his skin.

He ran up to the man and yanked his arm upward, aiming the gun at the sky as he punches him in the face, cracking his nose and causing blood to spurt out. And before the thug was able to fight back, the raven brought down his arm. Breaking it across his knee with a sickening crunch and then elbowing him in the face. The man screamed in pain as he fell, whimpering and looking on with horror at his mangled appendage. 

The boy knew that bone had broken the skin for he could begin to smell the faint scent of blood rise into the air. He humphed in aggravation and was about to leave, feeling a sick sense of satisfaction in his stomach, when he suddenly heard a small  _ bang _ and felt something thump into his chest. 

The raven reflexively took a step back and a hand shot up to his chest, freezing for just a moment as he breathed in the cold air. Drawing it away, he felt a cool stickiness coating them, and once he looked down, he began to understand what was happening. A small pool of blood flowed from his jacket. Dark red shined with an iridescent green in the low light of a far off Christmas tree and a sigh of annoyance left the boy’s lips. He turned to the leader, who was holding a smoking gun in his shaking hands and his eyebrows rose. 

“Well, that’s inconvenient.” 

The boy wordlessly reached for his chest again and began to dig the bullet out. Not bothering to care about the blood that got on his hands or about the fact that he was basically digging around inside his own chest to reach for a bullet. But it wasn’t exactly the first time he had to get a bullet out of himself. 

A grunt left his throat, the only indication he showed that he was in pain, and pulled away his hands holding a small round of lead. His fingers were stained with the same, cool and sticky blood that shined an iridescent green, and the boy let a mirthlessly smirk appear on his face as he turned up to look at the man who shot him. 

The attempted murderer’s mouth was hanging open in horrific shock and even from where he was standing, the teen could see his arms and legs trembling. 

And they both knew it wasn’t from the cold. 

“I told you to run.” 

The man shouted in fear and dropped the still smoking gun from his hands, and the raven watched nonchalantly as it clattered heavily onto the ground. Snow crunching beneath fleeting feet as the criminal turned tail and ran away. And the boy watched as he ran away from the alley, and away from the terrifying, inhuman, freak of a child who he had thought would be an easy target for him and his friends. 

Oh, how wrong he was. 

The pale-eyed raven scoffed and turned back to the alley, clutching the bloody bullet and switchblade tightly in his hand. He pocketed the two objects, careful to make sure that they didn’t drip as he moved, and he made his way over to a closed dumpster, stepping over one of the goons. He jumping on top of it and the metal groaned beneath his weight. The boy reached up to grab a metal rack, and once he pulled it down, there was suddenly a ladder in front of him. 

A fire escape ladder to be precise. 

And then carefully, minding his new injuries, he began to climb up the creaking metal to his makeshift shelter. After a few minutes, much longer than it normally took him, he reached the roof of the seven story building and swung his legs over the ledge. A grunt escaping him once more as he landed on the frozen gravel.

He breathed down the icy air and took a moment to regain his bearings, swaying just slightly before making his way to the shelter he had created on top of this building. It was made up of some torn up tarps, bungie cords, and a couple of old boxes for structure with a barely working radio and a blanket or two inside of it. 

It wasn’t very much, but it was what he had been calling home for the past two weeks. And he wasn’t about to start complaining.

The teen collapsed inside of the shelter, sitting down on the blankets and cardboard and with a cringe he realized that he was staining his only blankets with blood. 

He cursed and hung his head. 

Just another thing to add to the list of ever-growing things. 

He wasn’t exactly worried about getting an infection or having to get stitches for himself, because he knew that his healing factor would kick in sooner or later. And that by morning there would be nothing but a nasty bruise to show for what happened that night.

His healing ability was the only power he allowed himself to like and it was the only one he was thankful for in this time of hardship. But the frustrating thing was that while he would heal just fine, he would need to find new clothes, new blankets, and a new cardboard box to put down. And he would have to burn everything. 

He couldn’t leave a trace. He couldn’t leave a single strand of DNA behind and the best way to do that was to burn it beyond recognition. 

The more he covered up his tracks the harder it would be to find him. And he did not want to be found.

The boy laid down on the cardboard “floor” and lazily pulled up the blankets around him as well as the hood on his jacket. He burrowed deep into the few sheets and breathed in the scent of rock and mustiness, thinking about the troubles and errands he would have to run tomorrow. He could already feel the weight of dread sitting in his stomach as he waited for sleep and for the morning sun. 

Tired blue eyes closed and ebony bangs hung in front of him, hiding his face in the shadow of the already suffocating darkness, and with shivers and uncomfortable aches, a young Danny Fenton fell asleep to the sounds of the sleeping city of San Francisco. 

Unaware of what fate would bring in the morning. 


	2. now they're coming out from the shadows....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny walks through the city of San Francisco and encounters someone he doesn't want to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took me nearly a month to update the next chapter guys. It's been kind of a rough few weeks. Anxiety, depression, job-hunting, school, ADHD, and writers block sure do love kicking my ass.   
But anyway im really glad that i was able to finish this chapter and upload it for you guys! For the timing of this story, i like to think that it's in those three months when the Titans were getting settled and training, before Connor and the backstory for Jericho and all of that stuff. So if you need a reference point, there you go. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy!

Danny woke up to the feeling of ice on his neck and to the faint sounds of people chattering in the street below. 

The tarp draped above his head crinkled at the weight of the winter wind, and as he sleepily sat up he smacked his lips at the stale taste of dry mouth that made itself apparent. He winced the second he felt the aches and pains that he had come to associate with that of a recent injury, and glanced down at his chest. Finding blood thickly caked to his clothes and felt a profound stiffness in his muscles. 

The raven-haired teen almost scowled at his luck, because only he would be unfortunate enough to get shot in the chest and have to find a way to get new clothes without being conspicuous. Wait, no, scratch that. 

Only he would be unfortunate enough to get shot,  _ period _ . 

With that thought in mind, he began to unbutton his first jacket, the dark blue corduroy folding stiffly beneath his touch, and then unzipping his hoodie to pull down the blood-dried shirt. With a careful and trained eye he looked over the spot where the bullet had pierced through him the night before. 

The skin was mottled a deep purple with sickly yellow staining the area around the puncture and small veins of glowing green embedded themselves in the discolored flesh. And even at this point in the healing, Danny could tell that it was going to scar. He wasn’t concerned about the green veins, that was just his healing factor doing it’s work, but as for the scarring?

Well...that’ll just be another addition to the ever-growing collection. 

With a heavy sigh, the teen let go of his shirt and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling icy water come into contact with his fingers. He drew them away with a scowl and stared at the melted ice, giving a huff in annoyance. Looks like there was another hole in his tarp. 

Just add that to the errand list.

The raven-haired boy stretched as far as his aching body would let him, letting out a groan as he did so, and smacked his lips once more before getting up. The blankets fell away from him as he stood on the frosted over roof, and with a glance at his watch saw that it was close to eleven.

His legs felt cramped and uncomfortable as he stood on the roof, taking in the sight of San Francisco in the grey morning, and as much as he didn’t like his predicament, he did enjoy the view that tall buildings gave him. It was so peaceful up here, with the grey winter sky above and silver towers surrounding him; it was the closest thing he had to flying that didn’t involve actually having to do it, so he wasn’t exactly complaining when he had to climb multiple stories to get to his shelter. 

But speaking of, the usual peacefulness that usually hung in the air was disturbed by the faint and annoying sounds of chatter and static. Danny’s sensitive ears picked up a few words here and there, and even from his height he could hear the rustle of plastic and crunch of road salt. 

Urged by wary curiosity, the teen made his way over to the edge of the building and glanced over the ledge.

The achingly familiar sight of navy blue jackets greeted his vision, and if he looked to the side he could see the edge of a squad car at the mouth of the alley, with caution tape cutting off the entrance. 

A vulgar cuss escaped Danny’s lips. Someone must’ve called the police after hearing the gunshots from the fight last night, and judging from the blood pools frozen on the alley pavement, the scene was now undoubtedly interesting to the local law enforcement. 

Which also meant that Danny had to find a new place to stay and that he couldn’t use the fire escape to get back down. Unless, of course, he wanted to get stopped by the po-po. 

The boy scoffed at the thought.  _ Yeah, right.  _ He thought.  _ Like that’ll ever happen.  _

He stepped away from the ledge and turned around, facing the opposite end of the roof. He had to get down somehow right? 

He breathed in the chilled air, and silently saying an apology to his stiff muscles, took off running towards the opposite edge. Feet barely touching the ground and arms pumping, Danny approached the edge and planting his foot on the brink launched himself off the building. 

Wind whistled past his ears and burned his eyes, and for a split second, the raven felt completely weightless; his mind began associating the feeling with flying, but the halfa quickly crushed the thought before it could run rampant. He didn’t need his subconscious getting the better of him.

The next building over came up rapidly and on impact Danny rolled on the cement, letting his instincts take over and grunting as he let the ground absorb the shock. He stood up hissing in pain, his chest flaring up uncomfortably, but shaking it off he walked over to the back of the building. Dark bangs hung in front of his eyes as he looked down to find another fire escape attached to the back of the structure, and as he clambered on down, the metal clanged and creaked beneath the unexpected weight.

Jumping down onto the ground with a small grunt, Danny checked around himself to make sure that nobody was around to see a teenager with blood on his clothes disappear into thin air. But when he looked around, he saw no one. So with a satisfied hum, he breathed in a steadying breath. And clenching his hands, he reluctantly left the visibility spectrum. 

  


* * *

  


Danny didn't exactly like using his powers.

To him, they had caused nothing but sorrow and pain and a whole lot of trouble. But when it came down to it, when he absolutely had to, he would let himself use them. 

He tried not to rely on them everyday, if anything he tried his best to never use them. But when you're living on the streets in California, there was only so much you can do without using your paranormal powers to your advantage. 

So as the raven-haired teen walked down the sidewalk, slipping past people and treading silently, he does anything he can to take his mind off the fact that he's breaking his vow. He turns his mind to anything and everything that would distract him, and he consciously lets them run around his head, taking over his thoughts.

_ The frost melted on the sidewalk.  _

_ That person over there walks like a penguin. _

_ The Christmas lights in the trees are turned off. _

_ There aren't any cars on the road.  _

_ The bakery on the corner smells nice. _

_ That kid over there has bright, green hair.  _

_ There's less salt on the road. _

_ The sky is grey. _

_ My chest hurts. _

_ My fingers are cold.  _

_ I need new gloves. _

And as if by chance, that was the moment he came up to the Goodwill. He breathed out a sigh, a puff of silver leaving his lips, and then walked inside. The pressure sensor went off and the sliding doors opened, and Danny tried not to laugh as he saw one of the employees look at the door expecting to see someone come through. Their face was hilarious when they saw no one. 

The teen smiled and walked away, heading towards the men's section and immediately browsing through the different jackets and pants they had. His shirt and jacket were starting to get uncomfortably itchy, which reminded him that he needed to find some new clothes 

Danny didn't exactly feel happy over the fact that he was stealing clothes, but in his mind, this is what the donations to Goodwill were for right? They were supposed to go to those who were less fortunate and couldn't afford the new, high-retail shit. So technically, it wasn't as bad as it actually was. Or at least, that’s what he tried to tell himself to make him feel better about stealing. 

He walked through the aisles, checking out a few shirts here and there and rifling through the hangers when nobody was looking or even in the same space as him. Because it would obviously look suspicious if clothes started moving on their own, and Danny didn’t want to cause some kind of meltdown for some poor, random civilian. 

He ended up picking out a dark hoodie, one that would hide his face and hair well thanks to its deep hood, two long-sleeve shirts, a sturdy, caramel colored, winter jacket, some green cargo pants, a pair of boots since his were falling apart, and lastly a pair of thick fingerless gloves that could convert into mittens. The raven was particularly excited about that find. 

Extending his invisibility to the clothes, he quietly wandered around the store until he found the bathroom, silently slipping inside and immediately dropping the invisibility. And once he popped back up on the visibility spectrum that he had left a while ago, he was able to take in his appearance in the bathroom mirror, for the first time in a month of so in fact. 

And the teen came to one conclusion. 

He looked like shit. 

His once shiny ebony hair was now dirtied and ragged, it’s natural shine nonexistent and replaced with that of stiff grease, which Danny had sadly become familiar with. There was dirt and flecks of blood on his pale face, which was also sunken around the cheekbones from lack of food and water. His eyes were still as light as always, but they had dulled and dark bags hung underneath them. Even worse than when he was back home and fighting ghosts on a three-hour sleep schedule. 

And his clothes were just as worse. 

Bloodied and torn beyond recognition and even Danny had trouble discerning the  _ Casper High  _ logo written on the front. The jeans had grown stiff and rigid over time from the grime, ash, and blood that he had accumulated, and his gloves were so worn from use that they had long started fraying at the edges. He really looked like a homeless crackhead.

But thank God that he was changing, because it was about fucking time. 

The teen placed the fresher clothes on the sink counter and began to peel off the filthy ones that were long overdue for a change. They fell to the ground in a disgusting heap and Danny had to keep himself from actively gagging. He turned back to the mirror and was again met with an unwelcome sight. 

Pale skin riddled with green and pink scars, each one with their own story. Burns, bullets, arrows, knives, electricity...scalpels. The teen glared at the reflection, wishfully imagining all of them just disappearing as if his will alone could make them go away. But sadly they remained, as they always did. And Danny sighed in defeat, his eyes cast downward. These scars were nothing but reminders of times and moments in his life that he would rather wish to forget, and he loathed how they were permanently carved into his skin. 

The teen shook his head, rapidly blinking, and ran a hand down his face. Shaking off the stereotypical teenage angst he could feel coming on as he reminded himself that he had a mirror and a bathroom all to himself, and that he should use it well before someone came knocking. He leaned over the sink and began checking the puncture in his chest, relieved to see that it was almost healed. But it would still take a day or two for the bruises to be gone. It was from a bullet after all, it wasn’t going to disappear overnight. 

Satisfied with the progress of the healing, the green veins still glowing around the wound, Danny turned on the sink and grabbed some paper towels. And then he began to clumsily give himself a ‘shower’ with wet paper towels and water from the sink, in the back of a Goodwill. 

He scrubbed off the dried blood and grime as best as he could and by the time he was done, his skin was red from all of the rubbing with the unpreferred material. He splashed cold water on his face and ran some of the water through his hair, hoping to wash some of the gross shit out of it, before finally looking towards the clothes he had acquired. 

With a final splash of water through his hair, Danny turned around and began trying them on. The clean long sleeves felt nice on his somewhat washed skin and the pants felt just fine. It was quite nice not wearing crusty clothes for once. 

The hoodie in particular was his favorite. It was two sizes too big for him, the fabric was soft and warm, so it felt like the teen was being hugged from all around. Which was a nice thought for him to have. He threw on the winter coat, slipped on the gloves and exchanged his worn shoes for the boots, and when he looked in the mirror this time, he was much happier with his appearance. He looked less like a homeless crackhead and more like an angsty teen who liked big clothes. 

Which was a much better alternative. 

Danny nodded in approval, relatively happy with his outfit choices, before turning back to his old clothes and scowling. He could only think of one thing to do with them, and he prayed to Clockwork that no one would find him doing it. 

  


* * *

  


The halfa snuck behind the Goodwill, his arms carrying his old, bloody clothes, and looking around for any kind of container to put them in. An empty barrel caught the corner of his eye and Danny whipped around to look at it more clearly. A small smile made its way across his face as he began walking towards it, and with no formality whatsoever, he chucked the garments into the rusty can. But once he did, he remembered something and cussed at himself as he started to dig through the clothes again. It didn’t take long before he pulled out the switchblade from last night. 

“Yep, there you are you lil’ fucker.” he muttered as he put it in his new jacket, the weight of the knife sitting strangely comfortable in his pocket. 

With that done, Danny glanced at the clothes and then checked the area around him to make sure that nobody was near him. When he saw no one, the raven looked back to the clothes and lifted his hand. The same itchy energy he felt last night bubbled up beneath his fingers, aching to get out, and with a flash of green, an ectoblast shot out and set the contents of the barrel ablaze. 

The green and white flame flickered as it ate the forsaken clothes, burning away the dried blood and charring the lead bullet. The raven watched the fire a little longer, allowing himself to revel in the small warmth that it gave off, before deciding that it was time to leave. Pocketing his gloved hands and nodding to himself, he left.

Pale fingers thumbed over the smoothness of the switchblade handle as he made his way back onto the sidewalk and strolled down the pavement without so much as casting a second glance to the fire he had left behind. He drew his hood up, hiding a good portion of his hair, and continued on his way. 

But as he was walking, he felt something rustle in his coat pocket. It was one of those coats that had higher up pockets on the chest, and Danny could feel something shifting around in one of them. Lifting his hands, he unbuttoned the pocket and reached inside, his fingers brushing against something small and crisp. Pulling out the strange object, a small smile lit up his face as he was met with the welcoming sight of soft green paper.

Money. 

The raven quickly counted what little there was, and he came up with a gross-total of four whole dollars. He closed his eyes and thanked Clockwork and the Ancients and whatever deity there was out there, that he was lucky enough to find this jacket, at this store, in this city, on this day. Four dollars. That was more money than he had in weeks. 

He could finally buy himself some food. Actual, real food that he didn’t steal from a restaurant dumpster or out of someone’s purse or from a soup kitchen. He could actually pay for something and not feel bad about eating it. The smile brightened on the boy’s face as he clutched the frumpled bills in his hand like they were a lifeline, and he turned around to look for a place to go. 

There was a small part of his conscious that told him not to spend the money, to not be foolish and to save every last penny that he had just in case he needed something. He had been so frugal these last couple of weeks, and it had been rough to say the least. 

But Danny couldn’t help the small glimmer of excitement that made its home in his chest. He was tired of eating old and stale food from dumpsters and sneaking granola bars out of some old womens’ purses and he was sickeningly tired of going to soup kitchens and taking some of the food without letting them know that he was there. Because if he did make himself known, then the volunteers would surely look into social services for the scraggly teen, which would bring a social worker, and it would involve the government, which would bring attention that he did not want. 

So what if he was excited about having money to spend?! He was tired of his fucking situation and hiding around all the time! And he hadn’t eaten a solid meal in months! So fuck that side of his consciousness and fuck his paranoid brain! He was going to get himself some food, goddammit! 

The dark-haired teen looked around, trying to find any sign that showed where he could go for a late morning breakfast. Or was it technically brunch? Nah, he doubted that what he was doing could qualify as having brunch. But he was still thankful when he saw the corner of a sign, right across the street, that showed a coffee cup and some words under it detailing the menu for the day. 

Danny smiled and tucked away the money again. He checked both sides of the street to make sure nobody was coming his way before jaywalking across the road, straight towards the cafe. The moment he stepped foot inside, he was blasted with a rush of warm air that smelled like chocolatey coffee and sweet glaze. A small bell rang above him, twinkling as it let the patrons know that another customer had entered their shop and he let out a content sigh, his shoulders relaxing. This place felt safe. 

Soft jazz music played through the speakers and there was a moderately big line of people ahead of him, waiting to order their drinks and leave for work or whatever. It  _ was  _ the middle of the day. Maybe they were just all out for a coffee break. 

He steps into the line and waits patiently, reading through the large menu and trying to decide what he can afford with what he had that will give him the most food and the most nutrients. He was so engrossed in looking at the board and reading about the different types of sandwiches they had, that he barely noticed the sound of the bell ringing again. 

He turned his head to the side, gazing out of his peripherals purely on instinct. Because having been on the run for about a year, Danny came to learn many skills and gain unfortunate reflexes, such as always looking behind him to see if there was anyone that could be a danger. And this time when he turned around, he saw a tall man with neat brown hair combed to the side, wearing a brown leather jacket and blue shirt. And next to him was a girl, maybe a little younger than Danny himself, with black and blue hair and a strange red diamond placed in the center of her forehead. She wore dark clothes and had an air about her that said Do Not Fuck With Me. Which Danny could definitely respect. 

But the moment she walked up to her spot on line behind Danny, she got a weird look on her face, and cringed. The raven spun around and looked ahead, trying not to draw attention from the girl or her...brother? He drew the hood lower over his face and tried his best not to turn around to look at the girl. 

A strange tingling rose up inside his throat and the teen almost cursed horribly. But much to his surprise, the blue and silver fog of his ghost sense never left his lips. Instead it churned in the back of his throat, uncomfortably writhing and pulsing but refusing to let go. Danny swallowed hard and tried to get rid of the incessant warning, but it still wouldn’t leave. So he placed a hand on his neck and did his best to breathe around it. 

He could also hear the girl behind him give a low whine in pain, and the sound almost made the halfa turn back around to look at her. But thankfully he was able to stop himself before he did so, and thankfully it was now his turn to order. 

He looked up at the cashier, and cleared his throat. “Uhm, uh, just a small drip and one of your club sandwiches, please.” he muttered as he pulled out the four dollars from his pocket. The cashier rang up the orders and gave Danny an uninterested look. 

“And your name?” 

_ Shit.  _ “Uhm,” he hadn’t come up with a fake name to use. “It’s uhhhhh-” 

“Dude are you gonna say something or not?” the cashier said. 

“Yeah _ , dick,”  _ Danny hissed under his breath. 

“Sorry?” the man said, beginning to look angry at the teen who had just insulted him.  _ Quick Fenton, think fast! _

“My name! It’s uh, it’s Dick. You know? Uhm, short for…..Richard?” 

An emotion flashed across the cashier’s face and his angry demeanor instantly fell away. “Oh,” he said, “uh, I’m sorry. I though-”

“Yeah, no it’s fine, it happens a lot. But yeah, my name is Dick.” 

“Okay,” 

The man turned to the register and typed in the order. And Danny, feeling embarrassed over the whole thing, took his receipt and went to go stand in the corner of the shop. Cool, blue light filtering in through the clear windows as the teen buried his face in his hands. It was just one messed up order, why was he feeling so anxious about it? 

But he couldn’t help the anxiety that rose when he peeked through his fingers and saw the girl from earlier looking at him strangely. 

He fought down the urge to flash his eyes green in order to scare her off, and instead opted for glaring and pulling down his hood farther. His ghost sense still didn’t leave him, it still tumbled around the back of his throat, feeling like a rock or something got lodged back there and he couldn’t cough it up. 

His ghost sense also never went off. It hadn’t gone off in nearly a year. Sure, it had some flukes, like when he would pass by graveyards or maybe when some sort of ectoplasmic entity nearby was forming, but it never just stayed in the same place. Like it was doing now.

But what exactly caused it? As far as he knew there were no ghosts around San Francisco and he was far,  _ far _ away from any kind of portal, although that doesn’t mean that some ghosts wouldn’t spread out through the country and find themselves some kind of haunt to stay at or maybe even a host body. But still it couldn’t have been a ghost because then his ghost sense would’ve gone off ful-

Danny glanced at the girl again. Her back was to him as she ordered her drink. 

It may not have been a ghost, but it certainly could’ve been something inhuman setting off his sense. It would explain why it hasn’t left him yet and also why it rose in the first place. The second that girl walked through the door, Danny’s ghost sense set off for the first time in over a year. 

Blue eyes hardened, shoulders stiffened, and the teen glanced back and forth between the bar counter and the door. If she wasn’t human, then that means that maybe she could’ve sensed something off about him too. It wasn’t that far of a reach to assume that. Which also meant that Danny would have to get out of here as soon as possible. He wasn’t going to risk it if it meant he was going to get dragged into the whole paranormal business again. He had had enough with his powers and ghosts and spirits and shit. He refused to get drawn into it again. 

So as soon as his order was called out, he strode forward and snatched the sandwich and coffee. Not looking back as he left the cafe with nothing more but a mumbled “Thanks” and a few odd looks. 

He emerged into the fresh air, welcoming the bite of the cold, and tried to steady his nerves. The brisk air sliding down his lungs and washing away the ghost sense that finally dissipated. It took everything in him not to bolt down the street right then and now. The teen squinted his eyes shut and shook his head. He had to get away from there. And with a small sigh he began making his way down the street, in the direction of the drugstore that he had meant to visit last night. 

He wished he could forget his encounter with the girl, or the lack thereof, but there was something about the whole situation that seemed bizarre. Like why didn’t his ghost sense go off? And was the girl really the cause of it? And if so, then what on earth was she? 

The raven winced and took a sip of his coffee, letting the too hot liquid burn his tongue. 

But out of the whole thing, he knew that there was only one thing he could do. If there was a chance that she wasn’t human, then he had to avoid her at all costs. 

And honestly? How hard could it really be to avoid one person in all of San Francisco? It can’t be that hard, right? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll admit, I edited like half of this, so im sorry if some of it was not as good as other parts.  
Thank you so much for reading this, i really hope you enjoyed it, and know that i love you guys! :)  
Until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> whelp, im stopping the first chapter there! I hope you guys liked it and i hope you guys decide to stick around to see what happens, because im really excited to get this story going. And just fyi i may not update very often, but i will try my absolute best to update regularly. But no promises. 
> 
> till next time!


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